


A soldier's pretence

by Lady_Monochromic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Manga Spoilers, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3081056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Monochromic/pseuds/Lady_Monochromic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were drifting. He could slowly feel it in the way Reiner would head straight to Eren, pretending. No, he only hoped the blond was faking his hearty laughter. So much faith was placed in Reiner, hoping he was mentally sticking to the plan of pretence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A soldier's pretence

**Author's Note:**

> Cross Post JULY 2013  
> I don't particularly know what the aim of this was except to write something for these two…

The beginning held their highest level of optimism especially when they faced a mission far too dangerous and complex for a couple of adolescents to handle, but were simply there thanks to a certain blond's  _bad habit_. Passing the exams were a breeze and they blended in so well with the other recruits – Reiner able to use that wide grin his childhood friend often complimented him on.

Difficulty then came when squads had to be assigned but luck aided them, as more often than not they were placed on the same squads able to keep watchful and trusting eye out for the other. The other squad members took dull notice of the looks Bertholdt and Reiner communicated wordlessly with. Their eyes telling. Their eyes knowing. But something was off when Bertholdt nodded – telling his partner he would run to the walls and transform into his Titan form – and it took a lengthy second for Reiner to nod slowly back. A pale nod that gave the look as though he could throw up at any moment ghostly imprinted in his mind.

* * *

At night they slept next to one another; their beds pushed tightly together it was almost one bed with a slit barely bigger than the width of the tanned boy's hand. It was the only time they truly had time together, alone. Reiner would roll listlessly to his right closing the distance between himself and Bertholdt. There, their adolescent bodies faced one another, their warm faces inches apart to speak in whispers. Sometimes a hand would brush the other's with the two able to feel the lightest of touches though neither would speak of it: a mutual secret (or understanding?).

In the beginning when they shared a bunk, they could reminisce in their – somewhat limited – childhood and smile but those nights had shifted to one focus. They had to discuss hushed plans. Bertholdt  _had_  to: it was the only time he could remind Reiner what they were really doing. If not, he could only imagine that the blond would carry on his pathetic game of laughter with Connie, or the protection for Armin and Krista. The mere thought of Reiner losing himself, no the thought of Bertholdt losing Reiner squashed his stomach and infuriated his usually blank green eyes.

On the night they had been accepted into the Scouting Legion, Reiner did nothing to acknowledge his childhood friend. He stayed rigid. He stayed on his half of the bed not crossing the gap in the mattresses, which had widened, to his black haired friend. His muscles showed no movement and his shaped back stilled. How it made Bertholdt's heart ache, made it contract tighter almost to stop beating. That whole night he didn't move.

Nor did he on the next night.

Nor the next night... Nor the next... Nor the next... week...

* * *

Every night he laid facing the blond hair dulled in the dark night.

Every night he waited for him to turn on his side wearing a slack smile whilst his eyes shone.

Every night he received no luxury.

* * *

Thoughts of his time spent skirting the giant forest trees unable to see Reiner – they had been assigned to different squads after all – nor knowing how Annie was doing at the time, filled the black haired teen's mind. Not only those thoughts roamed restlessly but as he resided in the small cabin within the proximity of those that he had to pretend with (always pretending), his lack of interaction with his blond friend plagued his mind. How could they stand next to each other, speak, and smile when Reiner could never look at him in the eye?

Bertholdt prodded the hard muscular back whispering the other's name to gain some attention. He saw him shift, heard him groan but still Reiner made no effort to face him. Why was it so hard? He only wanted to see his face instead of the blond hair and firm back he constantly saw not only at night but whilst they were to converse with others – Reiner more so thanks to his  _kind heart_. Sure they had been together all day but their interactions were cut and it felt as though Reiner was no longer pretending...

_You're deluding yourself._

* * *

"Annie failed," Bertholdt spoke, nonchalantly. He sat beside the blond hunched on the steps outside of the cabin. Out loud, his statement echoed, more so in the quiet night. Although there was a possibility someone would have heard him there was little information for them to intelligently infer what he truly meant. But he knew the mentioning of their mission, or even of Annie, made Reiner uneasy with paranoia – increasingly so the past few days (weeks though he did not want to face that thought).

Reiner twisted his torso so he could face the soldier who had spoken, staring for what felt like the first time in his eyes. He clasped his hand over Bertholdt's mouth stopping him from speaking any further. Bertholdt could feel the tremors of his friend's fingers on his lips. It made him smile wistfully for it was the first time they had come into contact with one other since the second attack.

Bertholdt stared into the flickering eyes finding himself unable to read him. There mixed emotions and although he could not identify each the dominant one made him sick with disgust.

_You're not a soldier. If so, I'll join you in your pretence._

Softly, Bertholdt placed his hand on Reiner's before pressing his lips to kiss his clammy palm. He could feel the slight sting of salt on his lower lip. Reiner blinked. Reciprocating the action left him baffled, as he attempted to look for an answer from his friend's shadowed face. It was left with a question not asked consequently no answer given. Bertholdt moved their hands slightly keeping them still within close proximities.

_You're not a soldier._

Neither spoke; it remained so for the rest of the night.

* * *

Really, he was not so sure of his own actions that night but he could not dwell on them as they rode, without their full gear, towards the direction of the titans. Or rather he could since the blond had taken lead with his horse close to the front whilst he, at the back, rode mechanically after. All riding towards their possible death. Although his heart rocked against his rib cage he only feared that maybe that blond  _soldier_  would throw himself to aid someone and be lost.

If only the thought had not crossed his mind then maybe it never would have happen. Maybe, he would not have tested fate.

* * *

He had already swallowed enough bile when the Titan chomped on Reiner's forearm as if he was just a chunk of meat and nothing more. When he stared wide eyed at Reiner who was prepared to throw himself out of the window clutching a Titan with one arm and it crunching his, his mind had reached a point where he could no longer see Reiner Braun. He could not see the boy he grew up with; the one he used to run with; the one he went through laughter and terror; the one he had rushed to aid only moments ago with a pitchfork; the one he had shouted and cried that they'd return; the one he had loved.

* * *

Connie looked at the false man with such admiration it was contagious to the others. So when he asked if it was Reiner's disposition that he saved others, Bertholdt could have laughed and agreed just to keep up with the act but he was too tired of playing a game alone. He kept the glare focused at the bloodied bite mark.

"No, in the past Reiner was a warrior. Different from what he is now..." It was pathetic the way it took him so long to slap Reiner with his words. He stood coldly – had done so once the huge teen threw himself in front of Connie.

There was conflict within Reiner's eyes trying to determine who Bertholdt was, who  _he_  was. "What's that supposed to mean?" His voice shook ever so slightly that it could be passed as mere confusion. No, Bertholdt knew better than that even if he his skills of reading Reiner had deteriorated. He glared at his friend, at Reiner, because if he didn't he would have to admit their roles in the horrid game of breaking walls and manipulating titans.

When Reiner's mouth opened there was a wanting for him to sigh and understand the black haired teen. But that did not happen. His words pained him so he stood silent because there was no point in talking to an actor who's self had merged with the onstage character. A character hated ever so much by the one man audience.

_Reiner, you are not a soldier! You are a warrior!_

"Warrior? What're you even talking about?"


End file.
